


Love Is Catching

by Trotzkopf



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fluff, Kissing, Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-29 13:57:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13928511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trotzkopf/pseuds/Trotzkopf
Summary: The thing is, the actual thing is when you’re hanging on the edge of a roof by your fingertips, life becomes very simple all of a sudden.





	Love Is Catching

**Author's Note:**

> Written as part of a drabble prompt challenge on tumblr. The prompt was “After everything we’ve been through, you still don’t think that I love you?”

The thing is, the actual thing is when you’re hanging on the edge of a roof by your fingertips, life becomes very simple all of a sudden. Everything can get narrowed down to: there is the solid ground and there is you, a thing that goes squish when introduced to the former at moderate velocity.

Vimes contemplated this while he tried to find a foothold on the slippery brick wall, only to be disappointed over and over again. It started to rain.

_“Oh good,”_ he thought, _“leaves less of a mess. I bet the gutter could carry me right down to the Ankh, very tidy.”_

He tried again to hoist himself up. A pointless undertaking because if he couldn’t do it a minute ago when his arms hadn’t felt like wet noodles, there was pretty much zero chance he could accomplish this now.

Vimes turned his head and looked down the street. In the distance he could see the first light of dawn edge toward the horizon. Maybe there would be a rainbow. His muscles trembled.

“Damn—“

His grip slipped. For a second his body seemed to be suspended in midair like a freeze frame in one of _The Times_ cartoons, and then, in keeping with conventional narrative, a strong hand grabbed his wrist.

Before his brain had time to rejoice, the owner of the hand pulled him up until Vimes had a better grip of the ledge and could scramble the rest of the way himself.

For the first two minutes, all he could do was lie there, face down and pant. When he finally managed to prop himself up, he saw the figure clad from head to toe in dark clothes sitting three feet away from him on their haunches.

“Thank you,” Vimes wheezed. He managed to sit up on the third try.

His eyes went wide when his rescuer moved forward. No, moved was the wrong word. The figure glided like a feline, closing the distance and climbed into his lap.

It happened so fast, Vimes was too shocked to react until the man - and it was a man, he could feel it now - said, “Commander, you really have to stop trying so hard to part from this life.”

“You?” Vimes asked, his hands settling on the other man’s hips out of their own accord.

Vetinari pulled the cloth covering his face down. “The city cannot afford to lose you,” he said before he dipped his head and pressed their lips together.

Too many question were queuing up and squabbling with each other to get there first until Vimes picked one at random.

“Why?”

Vetinari brushed the rain from Sam’s forehead with a gloved hand.

“You have to ask?”

Something fluttered in Sam’s chest. “No, I suppose not.”

The End


End file.
